Don't Let Go
by Kikasetai
Summary: When Vincent is found dead, a grief-stricken Cid tries to decipher the clues and unravel the mystery of his death.
1. Lost

Don't Let Go  
  
* * * - scene switch  
  
----- - flashback  
  
* * *   
  
People say comforting things like, 'I know how you feel,' or, 'I understand your pain.' I'm guilty of saying such things. But I realized today that they are only words, that no one could understand, no one could know how it feels. How /I/ feel.  
  
I wasn't the one who found Vincent, lying in pooling blood from a gunshot wound in his chest. No, I was out of town, visiting a friend. I wasn't there to help, to save him from whoever did such a thing to him. To comfort him in his last few breaths.  
  
I'm sure it was someone else, not himself. Others tell me in not-so-many-words he committed suicide. I refuse to believe that. He was happy, I know he was. Screw denial, I knew him, they didn't. Simple as that.  
  
I kept telling myself that.  
  
It didn't stop the tears.  
  
Forget being strong. They were used to me being the rough one, the one who never cried or showed weakness. But now wasn't the time to be me. There was plenty of time for that later. Now, I would grieve.  
  
Then, I would solve this mystery. Track down and /kill/ the bastard who did this.  
  
The thought was useful for temporary relief, but it never lasted long, because I knew that wouldn't be enough.  
  
* * *  
  
It was a normal night. Cloudless, the temperature not too cool or warm. In fact, there was nothing memorable about the evening at all.  
  
Except what happened.  
  
Irony could be so cruel sometimes.  
  
I was over with Shera, as we sometimes spent nights together, two friends enjoying each other's company. We were having a small discussion about nothing of importance; a little this, a little that, yet again nothing special. General chitchat about whatever we could scrounge up. It was like old times, me and her drinking tea and relaxing.   
  
The phone rang, the lighter to the fuse.  
  
"Hello?" I heard Shera ask.  
  
A muffled, panicky reply. That set me on edge, and I tried to prepare myself for bad news, which was, in the end, futile.  
  
"Cid?" Her voice was shaky. I didn't like that. "You might want to come to the phone."  
  
"Cid?" An exact mirror of Shera, Cloud spoke from the other end of the line. "It's about..." Whatever it was, he couldn't say it. That added to my already frayed nerves.  
  
"Spit it out, kid!" I could almost /hear/ the wince.  
  
"I can't say it here. Get over to Nibelheim." He hung up. I turned to Shera, expecting an explanation she didn't have.  
  
* * *  
  
It was a police officer that told me. My friends were having trouble with the news, but not on the same scale as me. They seemed to have some idea what they were doing; I, on the other hand, was in an unbreakable daze for the rest of the night.   
  
In the morning, I was roused from my slumber by the sun shining through curtains. My slumber on a couch. Later, I would find out I had refused to enter the mansion, instead bunking in Tifa's house.  
  
It was almost like I had been drunk the night before - I'll probably regret anything I did, and I had one motherfucker of a headache. God only knew where that came from.  
  
Upon exploring upstairs, I found Tifa still asleep. I decided to leave her a note and just go. I needed to get to the bottom of this.  
  
* * *  
  
I thanked every god I knew, as the police had cleaned everything up. I still didn't want to enter that room, but it was nice to know someone took care of it.  
  
Everything downstairs had checked out. Even the secret hallways he found during his first visit with Cloud. Nothing upturned, no signs anyone had been there.   
  
The upstairs was similarily devoid of evidence. Whoever did this had either known where they were going, or were damn lucky. Or maybe they were just skilled. My first reaction was 'Turks,' but what reason would they have to kill Vincent? Nobody could be ruled out just yet.  
  
The last place to check was the basement. I realized, however, the basement was only accessable via Vin's room. Well, shit. I wasn't ready to go in just yet. It would have to wait. Who planned this building so you had to go /up/ to go down? Morons.  
  
It had been obvious to me why he had chosen that room - he always seemed to be reading when not busy with something important. I remembered the time I caught him reading some weird-ass fairy tale which frankly did not seem appropriate for children.  
  
-----  
  
I walked into the back of the house with hope of finding Vin. He had disappeared for most of the day, and I was bored. Bugging him didn't yield as much fun as anyone else, but I had nothing better to do. I heard a slight noise from the piano room - the one which the clue called 'short of tea and ray.' I had opposed to that little game at first. I'm glad they hadn't given in...  
  
Dismissing thoughts of the past, I attempted to sneak up on him. When I was certain I couldn't get any closer without alerting him to my presence, I tried to scare him.  
  
"Vin!"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Damn. Didn't even look up from his book. Plenty others stood in a stack in a corner; that explained where he had been all day.   
  
Instead of answering him, I looked over his shoulder at the book he was reading.  
  
"'Mother-naked man'? That smut or somethin'? What's it called?" I distinctly saw annoyance in his crimson eyes before he masked it.  
  
"Yes, no, and Tam Lin."  
  
"Sure?"  
  
"Positive."  
  
"And I was hopin' you'd share."  
  
No answer. I wasn't expecting one. I tried reading from the book again.  
  
"'If I had known but yesterday what I know today, I'd have taken out your two grey eyes and put in eyes of clay. And had I known but yesterday you'd be no more my own, I'd have taken out your heart of flesh and put in one of stone.' Jesus, what the hell /is/ that?"  
  
This time he didn't bother to hide his annoyance. Score one for Cid.  
  
"It's a poem."  
  
"So this... elf queen wants to blind the dude, then kill him? Cruelty."  
  
"It's not meant to be threatening, Highwind."  
  
"How so?" Seemed like she was angry to /me/. Vin wouldn't know angry if it bit him on the ass.  
  
"The queen is loosing her knight. She didn't want him to see the fair woman, nor fall in love. It is her way of mourning." As if that explained anything. He overestimated my intelligence.  
  
"Huh?" Yeah, that'll prove it.  
  
He sighed. "'Eyes of clay' - so he didn't see the woman come to rescue him. 'Heart of stone' - so he didn't fall in love with said woman."  
  
"I get it..." This was better than teasing, he was actually talking, and more than one word at a time.  
  
"You think."  
  
"Exactly. You know me too well."  
  
More silence. This time, I was just content to sit, and watch.  
  
-----  
  
Something told me that I'd find some sort of clue in the basement library. All that was left to question was when could I get myself to go through Vin's room? It was too much, too soon, I realized.   
  
I looked out the window to take my mind of things. The sky always helped relax me. What met my gaze were an uncountable amount of twinkling stars. It was time to rest, get away from the stress of the conscious world.  
  
I found myself mindlessly heading for Vin's room, out of habit, and too tired to realize it.  
  
*****  
  
Tam Lin is copyright the person who wrote it. I don't know who e_e Some Scottish person, I think.   
  
Okay, I took down the self-insertion fic. It was only going to be something I poked when plagued with writer's block, but it's just stupid.  
  
I've really got to stop writing so early. I caught three spelling mistakes. Not like me. n_n; One I found /after/ uploading. Stupid typos. 


	2. Pain

Don't Let Go  
  
***** - scene switch  
  
----- - flashback  
  
-----  
  
It was late, but I knew Vin would be up. Sometimes I wondered if he slept /at all/, but if I asked I'd probably get an answer like, "I slept for thirty years, blah blah blah." Apparently if you sleep for a few years, you just don't any more.  
  
The door to his room creaked painfully loudly - neither of us was comfortable yet with sharing a room. If he were awake, he'd know I was there. Hell, he would have known if his back was turned and I was floating silently. If he were actually asleep for once, he'd wake up. I hadn't wanted to wake him. Okay, that's a lie. I hadn't expected him to be, but too late now.  
  
"Vi-"  
  
I stopped myself from speaking further when I saw him. Whatever he did, it completely tired him out; he was in a deep sleep curled up on his bed, like he was protecting himself. God, the man couldn't even relax when he /slept/.  
  
-----  
  
I shrugged off the remainders of the memory; I didn't need that right now. Doing so broke my trance, and I found myself in his room, just steps from his bed. I was here, right? I could just go to the basement, and find some clues? I tried to ignore the pricks of tears in my eyes. Just dust, I told myself, even though the room was spotless. Going to the basement could wait, I thought as I collapsed on his bed. His old bed. I mentally kicked myself. Shut up, brain, or I'll get my mop. Yeah, you better be afraid.  
  
I inhaled the scent still left on his pillow. Gunpowder - he seemed to keep that damn gun strapped to his back constantly, the one what's-her-face gave him - with undertones of... cinnamon? What the hell? Where did /that/ come from...   
  
Despite - and I really think it was spite, my brain getting back at me for the threat of concussion by cleaning-utensil-turned-weapon - the fact it wasn't what I planned, I fell into a light slumber.  
  
-----  
  
Even Vincent had to agree - it was a nice day. It was rare for the weather to be like this; the only place colder would be Icicle Inn. So, I started to try and coax him out of the house for lunch, being as subtle as a truck horn.  
  
"Hey Vin, let's go and get somethin' to eat."  
  
It wasn't like we were doing anything. I voiced that thought aloud, and added, "You need to get out more. You're so fuckin' white... insert cliche pale-person comment here." He stared at me and slowly replied.  
  
"... I suppose." With the way he was looking at me, I thought he was going to refuse; in fact, for a minute I thought he had. Damn monotone. Once I realized he said yes, I made the mistake of pulling on his arm - he doesn't like to be touched - and he stiffened. I let go as if burned.  
  
"Heh... Let's go." Sorry.  
  
"Yes." It's okay.  
  
Some things just don't need words.  
  
*****  
  
We decided to go to a small place just down the road of the mansion - and by 'we' I mean 'I.' I figured I should re-introduce Vin back into the general populace slowly.   
  
As we walked, people shot discreet and not-so-discreet looks at us; some started laughing. I guess it must look odd for two guys to go to a cafe. Or they may be mistaking Vin for an abnormally tall girl. Whatever they thought, a cool glare from Vin made them go on their way again.  
  
Dear God, what am I unleashing upon the world?  
  
Next door to the small restaurant, I saw the perfect gift for him - a gag-gift, of course. It was a hit-or-miss thing; either he took the joke in good humor, or he smashed my head in. Possibly he would drink my blood. I wouldn't put it past him.  
  
"Wait for me in there. I've gotta do somethin'.'' He just arched an eyebrow and did as I asked, his cape flowing dramatically in the wind. Does he have some sort of cue for that?  
  
I searched my pockets for spare Gil, and entered the store hoping he didn't eat anyone while I was gone.  
  
-----  
  
Again the sun played the part of alarm clock for me, mercilessly shining into my eyes and cutting off my dream. Goddamn thing doesn't have to be so bright.  
  
I resigned myself to the fact that I had to plan for Vin's funeral. It wasn't something I looked forward to... nor trusted myself with. Sighing, I rolled out of bed to call Shera.  
  
*****  
  
It wasn't until several days after he was laid to rest that I started to notice certain things weren't... right. Most, I never would have noticed, such as a missing book from his shelf, but I've been keeping my eyes open for any hints, no matter how small. It could be the most insignificant clue that solves this, and dammit I wasn't going to miss it!  
  
Ever since that time I fell asleep on Vin's bed, I slept in his room. Seeing him that final time - the first I'd ever seen his expression so serene and unguarded - put me in a renewed fit of depression, so I desperately clung to any remaining trace of him. Look at what you've done to me. I'm so pitiful... I really did love you, didn't I? Did I ever tell you that? No, I don't think so. I hope you got the hint. Was it one of our implicit exchanges? Maybe. You better know, or I'll dig your fuckin' grave up and tell you.   
  
Great, now I'm talking to myself... Sort of.   
  
Maybe now would be a good time to go back to my room.  
  
Unsurprisingly, it was exactly how I left it the day I... left it. That was surprisingly eloquent. Thank God I never wanted to be a poet.  
  
As I pulled back the covers, a furry brown thing fell on my foot. My first thought was rat; my second, a slipper. Both turned out to be wrong - it was the gift I had gotten Vin awhile ago.  
  
I placed it on the floor. I could reminisce later.  
  
*****  
  
Wow. I didn't think people would actually like this. n_n; 


	3. Understanding

Don't Let Go  
  
frickload of skipped lines - scene switch  
----- - flashback  
  
-----------------------------  
  
This time I awoke well before the sun was even up - that's what you get for falling alseep so early.  
  
My hand automatically went for a cigarette on the beside table, but came up with nothing. Which reminded me, I hadn't had a real smoke since... God knows when. Often, I had been to distracted looking for any anomalicies to smoke, and I ended up setting a rug on fire earlier. I never liked that fucking ugly thing, anyway.  
  
I mentally tallied up what I had found so far: muddy print on aformentioned carpet - Vin was clean, almost obsessively so... - several books re-arranged on his shelf, and one was missing, though I couldn't put my finger on which - again with the neatness; though I sure as hell couldn't figure out his system - and... nothing. Useless clues. Maybe he didn't like the carpet either. The books? ... Probably a new version of his insane way of classifying things. Or the murderer didn't like it. Both equally likely.  
  
Every time I looked over things, it just got me more and more frustrated. I usually need to remind myself that, 'no, that is not the result of a suspicious someone else bumping into that pot, that was me kicking it over,' or something similar several times. No matter how I looked at any clue I found the evidence usually proved too thin to support a theory. Hey look, a footstep in the secret passageway near his room. Oh yeah, that's mine. Cough.  
  
There's still one place I haven't checked. The basement. I don't know /why/ but I had this horrible feeling about it, as if something would happen if I went down there. I could find the answer, but what if it isn't the one I want? That's impossible, moron. He wouldn't... no, didn't. And damn the others for even bringing it up.  
  
If I don't go, I'll never find out. But I might not want to. Fuck, circular logic.  
  
Strange, how the door slid open smoothly. Either it was designed well, or it had been taken care of. I hadn't even realized Vin ever went down there.   
  
The ramp leading to the ground still creaked under my weight, just like it did the first time. I swear it's muscle. All of it.   
  
More ominous creaking. Hey, if it breaks I'll get to the bottom faster. Also I would be dead. But I wouldn't have to tiptoe down the path... Wait, more circular logic. What the hell.  
  
Halfway down, I started to see some black thing at the bottom. /Of course/ I disobeyed the cardinal rule of walking on old, weak, high-up pieces of wood - don't look down. Who really listens to that rule, anyway?  
  
As I approached it, what it was became clear. The Death Penalty. I practically tripped over my feet as I hurried down to the basement, cursing the spiral path the entire way.   
  
With several feet left, I decided to jump the rest of the way. I'm a dragoon. I have priviledges normal people will never enjoy. Thus is my life.  
  
His rifle glinted in the shaft of light creeping down from the still-open door. So maybe it doesn't work as well as I thought. I looked down the path to the lab - no sign of those zombie things or bats.  
  
I realized as I held the Death Penalty that I had never touched it before. Vin had been obsessive in the way he kept it next to him, never letting it out of his sight. Why would it be down here, yet he had d-   
  
The hallway down to the lab seemed more tempting by the minute, yet I wondered if I really wanted to go down there. He and I had reached an unspoken agreement over the lab. He disappeared in it occasionally, and I didn't bother him. It worked out fine. Even now, I didn't want to go in. I told myself it wasn't only because I didn't want to know what I'd find down there.  
  
With a sigh, I climbed the rickety path out of the basement, Vin's prized gun in my hands.  
  
-----------------------------  
  
I never let it collect dust.  
  
A few days after I found it, the Death Penalty started to attract the specks that seemed to gather in the mansion as if it were a big dust magnet. It was propped up in a corner of his old bedroom - next to the brown furry thing I had found - the room that lead to the basement. I hadn't been in there except to clean it.  
  
I knew I'd have to go down there eventually. Looking around Nibelheim and the mansion, I had the feeling I would find something down there. Still, I looked through everywhere, top to bottom. Which took me to the old sheet of hints to find the numbers to the safe.  
  
I wonder how I hadn't noticed before. Two words were added onto the sheet.  
  
'In the room short of tea and ray.' That clue had driven Cloud, Red, and me insane. Tacked on to the end were the words 'and me.' I didn't recognize the handwriting. Of course, I headed for the room with the piano right away, it being the first real lead I'd had in a long time.  
  
-----------------------------  
  
Last time, the clue had been in the piano itself; the strings for the 'ti' and 're' notes had been cut. Now, the 'mi' string was missing as well.  
  
What the hell did it mean? Was the murderer trying to trick me? It was a cruel joke, if so.  
  
Maybe there was something else in this room. I searched everywhere, yet nothing was out of place. The bookshelf was just as he left it - wait, how many of those did we have, anyway? - the curtains still hung slightly open, the chair was sitting where he had been in it last, though a fine sheet of dust had collected. On the table was a bookmark.  
  
Normally, this wouldn't have bothered me, but it was the last straw. I knew where I had to go. Whoever did this was playing a game with me, and I wanted it over.  
  
-----------------------------  
  
I hadn't been in the basement library since we first found Vincent. Cloud had wandered down there with an odd expression, and we had no choice but to follow. It hadn't changed much. More neat, certainly - Sephiroth had left a mess of the books while hunting for information on the Jenova project. I noted those books seemed to have disappeared. Wait. So had my books on mechanics!  
  
Little angsty bastard, I thought. Maybe he just moved them somewhere...  
  
I began to search in earnest this time. A distraction might be nice, and I might even find my way down to Rocket Town sometime and tune up the Highwind... If I could only find my damn books!  
  
I looked at where they were originally, and found one book out of place. I looked at the spine and read the title.  
  
'Tam Lin.'  
  
A bookmark marked a page. I slowly opened it, wondering if it were just a coincidence or if this was his doing.  
  
Which 'his,' I wondered before reading the first line.  
  
'If I had known but yesterday what I know today, I'd have taken out your two grey eyes and put in eyes of clay. And had I known but yesterday what I know today, I'd have taken out your heart of flesh and put in one of stone.'  
  
I remembered suddenly what Vin had said about these two sentences.  
  
-----  
  
"So this... elf queen wants to blind the dude, then kill him? Cruelty."  
  
"It's not meant to be threatening, Highwind."  
  
"How so?" Seemed like she was angry to /me/. Vin wouldn't know angry if it bit him on the ass.  
  
"The queen is loosing her knight. She didn't want him to see the fair woman, nor fall in love. It is her way of mourning." As if that explained anything. He overestimated my intelligence.  
  
"Huh?" Yeah, that'll prove it.  
  
He sighed. "'Eyes of clay' - so he didn't see the woman come to rescue him. 'Heart of stone' - so he didn't fall in love with said woman."  
  
"I get it..." This was better than teasing, he was actually talking, and more than one word at a time.  
  
"You think."  
  
"Exactly. You know me too well."  
  
-----  
  
It all made sense now, in a bizarre way. Why, and how.  
  
Vincent had killed himself.  
  
-----------------------------  
  
The final chapter, which is the prologue, is almost done. Don't worry, there won't be an insane wait this time.  
  
Sorry it ended so quickly. I had so much more I wanted to do, but... I'll probably do a companion to this, like random scenes up until this story. The final chapter will be separate. It ran too far away to fit now, and it has a beginning, followed by a middle, and happens to be almost completed by an end.  
  
I'm sorry it took so long. Jesus, I haven't updated since November? Wow. This chapter hated me.  
  
Thanks for all the reviews so far. Look out for the two companion fics for this - most likely to be called 'Snapshot' and 'Farewell to Tears.' 


End file.
